It seems like everyone has their go-to marriage proposal story, the gift that keeps on giving from a two-year stint in Morocco (well, that and parasites). Overeager mothers propositioning their sons to the random American living in their village of 500, well-meaning but misguided men in the medina who want to sell you a lamp and perhaps get a marriage certificate all in one transaction, and, of course, the creepy men lingering in back-alleys who propose a life together in a sentence laced with grammatically incorrect statements and super-offensive slurs. Sexy. And definitely tempting for those of us living in a foreign land.
But what about the men who manage to live outside of these caricatures? The Moroccan guys who perhaps aren’t as vocal in the streets, who treat us with respect and are intelligent, complete humans who we suddenly find ourselves attracted to? Good fortune and the “wife” label and surrounding families may come later, but during our two years in Morocco, many of us female PCVs meet a guy who intrigues us a little more than the lamp vendor in the medina.
Okay. Mutual interest achieved. But then what?
Standing next to each other is only so much fun.
Dating is haram, or forbidden, in Islam. Of course it still happens– it is a universally acknowledged truth that teenagers and young adults will notice each other and want to date no matter what mom or dad or religious leaders say. But, since here’s no legitimate way of socializing, the face of Moroccan dating is a tad different than what we westerners are used to. It resembles what Jane Austen described in 18th and 19th century England (chaperoned outings, a lot of looking out of windows and longing for each other from a distance) more than any contemporary chick flick. And this is just between two Moroccans. Imagine how fun things become when an American is thrown into the mix.
Grumpy mush (cat) says “non” to dating in Morocco.
Moroccan dating means, for all intensive purposes, acting like you’re back in middle school and don’t want your friends or family to know that you’ve fallen in love. Late night chats on the phone are carried out under the veil of complete secrecy, lots of intense and philosophical conversations happen via the internet (AOL IM for us back in the day, Facebook chat for our demographic in question), no PDA whatsoever, and just, in general, an overabundance of sneaking around. Moroccan parents do want you to get married, but they don’t want you to lose your morals and your purity along the way. This means that you do not introduce someone to your parents who you do not intend on marrying. Period.
Most of us didn’t come to Morocco with intentions of leaving with a ring on our fingers, and therefore might not be too willing to commit to a husband within the span of 27 months. The alternative, however, is tough; for American girls who are above the age of 13, living in a Jane Austen romance in 2014 is a little…exhausting. We’re going from the freedoms associated with cars & apartments to having the neighborhood report every time we leave the house and what we bought to, well, anyone who will listen. If you do manage to make it past the front door of your Moroccan apartment without anyone seeing and into the private confines of your own space, guess what– it’s illegal to have Moroccans of the opposite sex in your house if you’re unmarried! Go back to start, do not pass go, do not collect 200 dh. In a job where integration is key, it’s typically unwise to sacrifice your reputation. Yes, Ms. Austen, even for the sake of a guy with a fortune.
Even more challenging than dealing with the town gossip, in some respects, are the words of your own non-Moroccan friends, family, and colleagues. Interracial dating comes with a caravan of fun questions and unique conversational pickles, and dating a Moroccan is no exception: When am I converting to Islam? Am I afraid he’s going to abuse me? Did I hear about that one woman who married a Saudi Arabian…or maybe an Iraqi (they’re all so similar!)…and had her kids taken away from her by the government? Are my kids going to wear the oppressive hijab? (Just for the record, I have been asked all of these questions thus far). On top of that level of support, there’s a stereotype of being “that girl” who dates a Moroccan Host Country National (HCN). This is typically thought to be someone who had a hard time finding boyfriends at home and is suddenly inundated with attention from men here simply because she’s an American. The PC phone plan, allowing volunteers to call each other for free and discuss all matters of importance (especially who is dating who), is the nightmare of every PCV trying to fly under the radar– especially those dating a Moroccan and wanting to avoid the association with “that girl”. I’ve learned many things about my own relationship– for example, that we’re getting married in Canada (because neither of us like Morocco or America, how specific!) and that I stole my fiancé from his Moroccan wife– not from my grocery list-memorizing neighbors, but rather from my fellow brethren.
So, there’s a lot of muck to wander through, often in what feels like a rather directionless way– and those are just the external pressures on your relationship. Amazingly, miraculously, incredibly…a select group of girls here have located that fine line and have written the book on the balancing act (or, at least, the closest one can come to feeling balanced in this sort of a situation) of Moroccan-American relationships.
These are the girls I interviewed. We’re all wearing our culturally-appropriate outfits. I’m obviously Kiera Knightley.
Not always easy, typically ridiculous, and dima a learning experience– these are the words of the girls I’ve interviewed. My loyal readers should be impressed– I actually did research for this entry. I surveyed a group of female PCVs and other American women in Morocco who have dated, are dating, and, for some, are married to Moroccans. This isn’t an advice column or a how-to; Moroccan men are diverse creatures with a range of sensibilities just like every other human being, so it seems a little limiting to provide 5 easy steps for a healthy Moroccan-American relationship. Rather, this is an attempt to put a face on those dating Moroccans– one that is slightly more positive than what a google search will bring you (while, of course, still being 100% realistic). I asked these ladies several general questions as springboards, and also requested that they relay the inquiries to their Moroccan lovahs to round-out the perspective. Here, my friends, is what they said.
What have you heard about dating a Moroccan, and how does that relate to the reality?
When I was in [Peace Corps] training last year, there were rumblings about girls (only girls, mind you), who were dating HCNs, and speculations ranged from vague, (“I hear they met on the back of a camel!”) to downright problematic. (“Ugh her THIRD brown boyfriend? Does he even speak English?”) Between the many sessions run by Peace Corps staff on how to stave off the incessant sexual harassment we were likely to receive in country and the constant warnings of more senior volunteers that “Moroccan men only want one thing” and “can’t possibly respect women,” I got to site with a mental chastity belt and a matronly frown.
Overwhelmingly, Moroccan men don’t have the best of reputations. Close-minded, sexist, jealous, immature, and unfaithful, open to dating a “fun” American girl (but wanting a serious, conservative wife who is not seen or heard)– these are what we hear most often, sometimes in the form of inquiries about the particular guy who we have chosen to date (ie, “Isn’t he _____ like other Moroccans?” “Wow, I can’t believe you’re dating a Moroccan, they’re all so _____!”). Stereotypes, of course, go both ways. Many Moroccan men have an idea that American women are loose, don’t want commitment, party all the time, and don’t take anything seriously (I blame this on an overabundance of shitty American cinema available on cable here). The general idea of cross-cultural relationships don’t have very many positive connotations either. My own father– a very open-minded, liberal guy– maintains a firm belief that you should marry someone who is close to you in upbringing, socio-economic status, education, religion, & ethnic background– because, very simply, marriage is difficult as it is, and trying to work together to make personal decisions with someone of such a different background makes things near impossible. And, as much as my gut response is to contradict him and argue for the beauty of learning from one another, he’s totally right. One of my interviewees said it best:
I had always been skeptical of relationships between people who don’t share a language and cultural framework. Most of this attitude came from my time spent in Thailand. I remember many incidents vividly where the relationships seemed just wrong. Like WRONG. To give one typical example, I once watched a big, old American man and a pretty, young Thai girl spend a full twenty minutes sharing dinner without saying a single word to each other. He looked guilty and she seemed to be on the verge of tears.
There are definite global patterns of international love. (I speak from experience. As a Foreign Service Officer, these patterns are as immediately obvious from the types of people that apply for fiancé visas as from the Foreign Service couples you hang out with at parties.) East Asian women plus American men. Eastern European women plus American men. Brazilian women and American men. And then, plain as day, the flipside: Middle Eastern and North African men and American women. When I got assigned to Morocco, a lot of my colleagues told me that the Middle East is the best place to be a single American women, because society allows you to date locally. The opposite, on the other hand is much more difficult, if not impossible. Talk to any consular officer in the Middle East or North Africa, and they will tell you that foreign man/American woman relationships are the most common here by an order of magnitude.
Whenever I tried to explain these patterns to myself, the answer always came down to shallow things like appearance and gender roles. Like a jerk, I told myself that those relationships were somehow less valid. I thought that I wouldn’t date a Moroccan because I was seeking some kind of a deeper relationship, a relationship where you could have meaningful conversations and share the same cultural references. I did not—did not—want to be “that girl.”
Obviously, we’ve figured out that there are exceptions to the rules of negative press. Nicole, a PCV, described the universality of the men here. “[They're] just like all other men in the world. There are abusive and controlling ones, kind and happy ones, weird and quirky ones, [and] HUMAN ones!” The girls I interviewed have found companions who match their intellectual level, who share their interests and passions, who are curious about the world, and who graciously show us bumbling Americans a side of their culture not known to many outsiders. In the words of one of my interviewees regarding her current relationship:
Both of us are oddballs in our own cultures, and—holy crap—it turns out that we’re oddballs in many of the same ways. We are both political junkies, both American and international. (Brief anecdote: I knew I was in love when we were watching The Daily Show one day and a politician came on the screen. I said, “Who is that?” [he] said, “Democrat. New York.”) We are both slightly neurotic and anxious people. We are both deeply feeling individuals whose hearts tie up in little knots at the sight of a cat or a baby. And we share a genuine passion for things that matter to us, with no need for sarcasm or irony. That was what shocked and thrilled me most when I started dating [him]: how I could find someone so similar to myself, who understood me on such a deep level, in a place as different from my home as Morocco.
How did you two meet?
For most PCVs, matchmaking seems to happen in the workplace. Our boyfriends/ fiancés/ husbands serve as our counterparts, are members of associations we work with, help us to organize English classes, or are friends of co-workers. Some girls met their significant others around town, slowly developing deeper relationships with people who we interact with consistently while running errands. For Ally, a RPCV who is now married to a Moroccan, things played out in a more traditional way. “We met at his family’s house. [The family] were my site mate’s host family, and [I met my future husband] when he came home for vacation.” Overall, it seems like we end up meeting these guys in the same manner we would find a someone in America…just maybe minus the bar scene.
An image of some of some of the first YD PCVs meeting their lovers at work in 18th century England
What’s the hardest part of being in a relationship with a Moroccan?
Much of my introduction about the dating scene in Morocco (or, lack thereof), explain how difficult it can be, especially for PCVs or Americans in small towns, to successfully date a Moroccan. Tahnziz and tabergig, two words personifying the intense staring and busy-bodyness we face in small villages, prove to be stressful for Moroccans and Americans alike. PCVs want to maintain their good reputations and be able to work with people in their sites, while Moroccans want to save face with their families and friends. This often means dotting every “i” and crossing every “t” to ensure that absolutely no one is cued-in to our scandalous running around.
One time my neighbor, this old guy with a huge bushy beard who has never said two words to me, came up to me on the street and interrogated me because [my boyfriends's] bicycle was parked outside my apartment. He wasn’t even there; he just dropped it off because my house was closer to the shop than his and he had to run an errand.
The story of our lives. But seriously.
The fact that most PCVs did not want to be named in this– a blog simply speaking about dating (no wikileaks shenanigans or anything), should give you an indicator of how seriously we take the privacy of these relationships. It may sound petty to Americans who haven’t experienced the strikingly conservative culture of Morocco– familial honor is huge here. You don’t disrespect your parents in any way, especially not by publicly dating (and not immediately marrying) a foreigner. As a result, finding alone time and really being able to get to know each other outside of the theatrics of being together in public is quite difficult. Even when you escape the eyes of people who you know, stereotypes continue to accompany you as the completely unwanted third wheel. Basking in the anonymity of the big city often doesn’t offer any respite. One girl in Casablanca (a massive city) had this to say:
They might think that I am loose and [he] is a gold-digger. They might judge [him] for what they see as turning his back on tradition and religion, and they might judge me for needing attention and getting it from the first dude that crosses my path. Half of the time when I see people giving us looks, I want to yell at them, “You don’t KNOW me!” or “You don’t KNOW him!” I often find myself over-explaining when I introduce him to people or tell them I’m dating a Moroccan.
People and their opinions can invade your relationship even when you’ve conducted it according to all of the rules. Ally mentioned that she is often expected to conform to the standards of a “good Moroccan wife”, and that “…tons of Moroccans [are] wondering why I am not pregnant yet, since apparently EVERYONE is suppose to get pregnant right away after getting married– I noticed all the Moroccan women in my husband’s family have [already gotten pregnant].” It is worth mentioning that Ally is Muslim– someone who already has a huge leg-up on the rest of us in terms of achieving the label of a good Moroccan wife.
Another road bump is the big C: communication. Oftentimes, we find ourselves dating a Moroccan who can speak multiple languages and still, communication is a hurdle. “[My boyfriend] speaks Arabic and French and English but still, it’s difficult”, said one PCV. “He also said that in Morocco there are traditions that make me upset and when he tries to explain to me the things, I am still upset and he feels that I am upset with him.” The luxury of assumption that we oftentimes don’t realize we use when dating someone from our own culture is obviously not often a part of dating a Moroccan. One PCV mentioned how it’s taking her awhile to get used to the different ways that love is expressed in Moroccan culture, specifically mentioning money. “He shows his love by going out to buy everything, going to the store for me, paying for everything. It was difficult to reach a medium where I was comfortable.” Oftentimes, decisions and arguments have to be parsed out for longer amounts of time than either party is used to just to ensure clarity and understanding across the board. I’ve wondered why Mustapha will avoid making the tiniest of decisions, eventually realizing that he anticipated a longer discussion about cultural relevancy and wasn’t in the mood for having a 5 hour philosophical discussion about the merits of gift-giving in Morocco. This example is slightly exaggerated, but not by much.
What’s the best part?
It seems like every girl I interviewed had found someone who genuinely made them happy, manifested in all of the unique ways that we as individuals want and need. One PCV described her boyfriend as “…a man’s man, and is always there to lend a helping hand. He’s a good listener and a natural leader, with a face like a Berber Calvin Klein model and he drinks coffee with too much sugar while reading French novels at the cafe. [My boyfriend] swept me off my feet precisely because the first thing we spoke about wasn’t my breasts, or if I was a virgin, or the fact that I could get him a green card. We talked about Shakespeare, and feminism, the future of Morocco, the Arabic scale, movies, ambition, and different teaching styles. [He] flirts rather than pushes, kisses like a fairy tale prince, and loves me with all of his heart…[I have] peace (of mind, of body, of spirit), love (complete, unselfish, gentle), [and] understanding (of me, of him, of the Peace Corps Experience).” Nicole referred to her boyfriend as “…caring and compassionate. He loves Allah, his fellow humans, and all furry friends. He’s a hard worker, honest, motivated, and happy. He is gentle with his words and actions.” These are all adjectives that the girls I interviewed repeatedly used to describe the “angry”, “sexist pigs” we’d all been warned about.
There are many other perks as well– several girls mentioned the benefit of having a local watching their back. One PCV said, “I know that if I have ANY problem in my town, he will help me, at least with advice.” Assistance with language, work, integration, cultural nuances, finding places to rent– they’re all a plus. When a friend from Spain visited me recently, she marveled at how nice it was to have Mustapha and his two friends help us navigate the city, assist with bartering in the souks, and, most importantly, show us the hidden gems of the Marrakech food scene.
Because most of us met our Moroccan lovahs through work, there’s the shared passion for community development as well. Several PCVs mentioned that their boyfriends helped them with their projects and trainings, or attended workshops with them. They are the built-in counterpart that so many PCVs lack in their service. I know that I couldn’t have done half of the work I’ve accomplished if Mustapha wasn’t advocating for the projects.
For Moroccans, there’s a sense of freedom in dating an American. “Unlike Moroccan girls, [I'm not] putting pressure on [my boyfriend] to get married,” said one PCV. “He likes that we have TIME to get to know each other and that I’m not saying ‘When are you going to go talk to my family about marriage?!’” Many girls noted that their boyfriends enjoyed hearing their opinions and thoughts, especially when they were in disagreement about something. “I enjoy dating an individual,” one Moroccan guy explained. “In the past, my Moroccan girlfriends depended on me to make all of the decisions; it was almost like I was dating an extension of myself in those cases. Now, I am experiencing what it’s like to be an equal half within a relationship. It’s really challenging, but it’s much more interesting and rewarding.”
What’s the strangest part?
Even with someone to help you navigate another culture, there are still moments that leave us with our heads cocked in awe. For those of us conducting secret relationships in small cities, for example, the public vs. private sectors are incomprehensible. “It’s just strange having this intimate relationship with someone and then on the street just pretending that you are acquaintances”, one PCV remarked. Sneaking around when you’re over 30 years old and living in Marrakech is surreal, according to one of the girls I interviewed. “Some ‘highlights’ [of the strangest aspects of dating a Moroccan] have been sneaking around and my boyfriend always coming to my place in the late evening so that he’s not seen coming in or us leaving the house separately when we’re going to the same place.” Another PCV referred to her and her boyfriend as “being close, and yet oh so far away. Sometimes days will go by when I’ll only get to see him at the dar chabab [youth center], and we have to part with a stiff and formal hand shake.” And, for those who have brought their relationship into the light of day, cultural pressures keep things interesting. “My landlord, his mother, and other neighbors are all set on the idea of a soon approaching Moroccan wedding and tons of Moroccan-American babies being born”, said Nicole. “I find it very, very strange. Granted, ‘dating’ is not very accepted here, so it is just assumed we are getting married soon. It puts a lot of pressure on me and freaks me the heck out.”
Here we are in public, pretending we don’t even know each other even though we’re dating!
The biological clock for cute, hypothetical Moroccan-American isn’t the only timeline to be weirded-out by. Dating someone from another country oftentimes comes with an expiration date. “It’s stressful knowing that there is a time frame within which we have to decide our level of commitment”, said one PCV. Serious discussions about the future happen much more quickly than they would in “normal” circumstances. Sacrifices are made on both ends, especially financial. Visas are expensive, frustrating, and not guaranteed– from March to November 2013, I felt like I couldn’t make any declarative statements about my immediate future, since Mustapha and I were waiting for a consular officer to determine that in Mustapha’s interview. These types of pressures sometimes lead to rash decisions about the lifespan of a relationship– for better, and for worse.
What have you learned from being in a relationship with a Moroccan?
“I’ve learned that it is true that love has no boundaries,” wrote one PCV. “I’ve also learned that dating in another culture is not as simple as it is in America and you can’t make the same assumptions about how it will work. Most importantly, I’ve learned that communication and honesty are huge in any relationship, but especially in a cross cultural one.” The theme of communication was interwoven in many of the responses I recieved. Another PCV said that she learned “to always be verbal about everything, because in a relationship across cultures, we can’t assume that the message that we want to send to the other is received in the same way.” Ally echoed this sentiment, stating that people need to “pick your battles and be willing to compromise.”
Communication, helping people stay together since the 1400s
Apart from learning the art of communication and compromise, two interviewees highlighted the importance of the golden rule & relativity.
I’ve learned that just like they don’t know me, I don’t know you. Or anyone else. I’ve learned to get over myself and stop judging, because I don’t know what’s best for anyone any better than they know what’s best for me and [my boyfriend]. We are all individuals. Just like I would never date the vast majority of American men, I would never date the vast majority of Moroccan men, either. It’s all about finding someone who clicks with you in all the right ways. And isn’t it awesome to realize that we have the whole world to search through, not just a narrow subset of it?
I’m a people pleaser. I try really, really hard, especially when something, like a relationship, stops working. This has led to a lot of wasted time, tears, and anguish in my past relationships. Being with [my boyfriend] is by no means effortless, but he is never the rabbit hole into which I fall. Rather, he is the net to my tight rope, the wick to my fire, the hands that cup my raw and beating heart. I think that true love is always growing and changing, and that there’s no thing as perfection. When I look back over this past year, I can see the changes we’ve made together, and the learning we’ve done. I am less selfish, less dramatic, and more confident in this country because of him. In turn, I believe his confidence has also grown, and he is freer, more open, and happier because of me. And isn’t that all any of us can ask for?
So, my friends, these are our words. A special thanks to each and every girl who put up with my long list of questions & joined the conversation– I couldn’t have done this without you and your stories. And, of course, to everyone who is reading this because of a vested interest in the topic– don’t ever let people convince you that you’re “that” girl.
